Songs Of The Heart
by Raisinous Fiendling
Summary: ONESHOT. was 2 chaps, but i've combined them. At the Leaving Feast after Harry's 7th year, Dumbledore gives the newly graduated students a chance to express their deepest feelings through song. HarrySeverus, DracoGinny. Features Severus singing


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

**Song list:** A House Is Not a Home - I used Anwar Robinson's version; Your song - Ewan McGregor's version from the Moulin Rouge; Incomplete - the Backstreet Boys, Walk Through The Fire and Coda from _Once More, With Feeling_ (the Buffy the Vampire Slayer musical), Come What May (Movie Version) from the _Moulin Rouge_

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"With the most infinite tenderness  
I have ever known in my life,  
He put his arms around me,  
Gently, gently,  
And I embraced him around the neck  
And we touched…"

- K. A. Porter

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It was the middle of Hogwarts' Leaving Feast, but most occupants of the Great Hall were oddly subdued.

Voldemort had only been defeated a week earlier, and many were still in mourning over the devastating losses the School experienced.

Others were contemplating their future.

Harry Potter sat in his place at the Gryffindor table, and felt rather… hollow. His seventh year at Hogwarts was over. He had defeated Voldemort. He managed to preserve Ron and Hermione, and even Dumbledore remained alive.

Why, then, did he feel so empty?

He was leaving home.

More importantly… he was leaving a person he had come to treasure greatly…… so greatly. Too greatly.

Harry sighed.

A manor had been bought for him, and everything was ready for his… retirement. That was the word, wasn't it? Retirement. After seven years of the most grueling job in the history of Wizardkind, the world's Savior was finally able to rest.

The thought made him sick.

Unconsciously, he let his right hand slide under the table and massage his leg.

He recalled so clearly the moment when Madam Pomfrey had told him that he'd never regain good use of his leg, and that his left eye would remain sightless forever.

He remembered so vividly the day when he stood in front of the headmaster, and was told that the scar running down his left cheek, his neck, and then all the way from his left shoulder to his right hip, was magical, and thus could not be removed.

He remembered precisely the moment the realization hit that multiple doors to the future were slammed shut in front of him all at once.

Professional Quidditch.

Auror training.

Working with dragons.

He was a cripple now. A cripple. The best he could do was be a circus freak. He was sure multitudes of half-wits would come to gawk at the Boy Who Lived, and pay damn good money for it.

He didn't suppose it mattered. He had lost his one chance at happiness already. All that remained from it was a single kiss. They kissed… and then they never kissed again. What he thought was the beginning of something beautiful was really an end.

A cruel end.

--------------------------------------------

Sitting at his usual place at the High table, Severus Snape refused to admit that the heartache he was feeling was borne of his emotions.

Heartburn, he told himself resolutely. Bad pork. Nothing more.

It was a lie, of course.

He knew true love when he saw it.

True love had just graduated from Hogwarts, and was sitting at the Gryffindor table for the last time.

Snape cursed himself. He wasn't ready to let the boy go, yet he was pushing him away.

He was encouraging him to grow up and face the world, yet all he wanted to do was pull him close and shelter him.

It was the right choice, of course. The boy deserved better.

Better than a cruel Potions master could offer.

Only somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind did Severus Snape admit that perhaps he, too, deserved a better life.

A life with Harry.

His attention shifted when Dumbledore rose from his seat and clapped his hands. Instant silence filled the room.

"Students," announced Dumbledore, "As some of you already know, today a new tradition is born at Hogwarts."

All heads turned toward the headmaster, and a sprinkling of whispers spread through the Hall.

"Today," continued Dumbledore, "we will be giving a chance to the graduating students of Hogwarts to express their deepest feelings about the past seven years of their life… or the people in it… through song."

A gasp of amazement traveled up and down the House tables.

"I am told," he concluded, "that some students have already prepared their acts… but volunteering on the spot is welcome also. There will also be some random picks, so… be prepared! Before we begin, let us all thank Professor Flitwick for providing us with insta-song charms." A polite round of applause made the tiny professor blush with joy.

"And now…" Dumbledore pushed his half-moon glasses up his nose and peered down at a sheet of parchment. "I believe Mr. Ron Weasley is up first."

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Beet red, Ron got up and Harry stared at him in amazement. He hadn't known anything about this until now. A quiet melody drifted through the Great Hall, growing progressively stronger, and then Ron started singing.

"_A chair is still a chair," _he began and Harry discovered that the redhead's singing voice was more than pleasant.

"_Even when there's no one sittin' there…  
But a chair is not a house and a house is not a home  
When there's no one there to hug you tight  
And no one there you can kiss goodnight…"_

Stunned, Harry felt his eyes well up with tears. Images of Mrs. Weasley invaded his mind… he remembered Ron, lunging desperately to catch a sickly green spell... He remembered exactly when he realized that his best friend wouldn't make it, and saw Mrs. Weasley's body crumble lifelessly.

"_A room is a still a room, even when there's nothin' there but gloom…  
But a room is not a house and a house is not a home  
When the two of us are far apart  
And one of us has a broken heart…"_

Yes, he knew why Ron was singing this song. He remembered so clearly how every night before bed, Ron and Ginny would smooch their mother's cheek, and she'd hug them… so lovingly.

Losing her was a devastating blow to the family, and to Harry himself.

Looking over, Harry saw that Ginny was crying softly, her head bowed in mourning for her mother.

"_Now and then I call your name,"_ continued Ron, his voice shaking,

"_And suddenly your face appears  
But it's just a crazy game  
When it ends, it ends in tears…."_

The poignant last note lingered in the air and faded away, leaving everyone in the Great Hall silent. More than one person was sniffling dejectedly. Many could relate to the loss.

Not even bothering to wipe his tears, Ron sat down.

Slowly, and then more enthusiastically, a roar of applause spread through the room. Ron gave a half smile, and turned back to his food.

Clearing his throat loudly, Dumbledore got up. "Yes… well… Thank you, Mr. Weasley." He paused and cleared his throat again. "Now… who is next?"

A piercing note was his answer, as Draco Malfoy jumped up from his seat and called out, "_MY gift is my song…"_

The boy disappeared suddenly, and reappeared in front of Ginny. _"…and this one's for you,"_ he declaimed softly, gazing at her with fondness.

Harry smiled. Draco had been irreplaceable in their war against Voldemort, and after getting over their animosity, he and Harry had become fast friends.

Harry had to admit that Draco and Ginny were the perfect couple.

"_And you can tell everybody_

_That this is your song…" _Taking Ginny by the hand, Draco pulled her out onto the floor between tables.

"_It may be quite simple but," _he sang, wrapping his arm around her waist,

"_Now that it's done  
Hope you don't mind  
I hope you don't mind  
That I put down in words…  
How wonderful life is now you're in the world."_

Draco spun the little redhead about with the gentlest care. She giggled softly, her tears forgotten for now.

"_Sat on the roof"_, continued the blond,

"_And I kicked off the moss  
Well some of these verses, well they…  
They got me quite cross.  
But the sun's been kind  
While I wrote this song…  
It's for people like you that  
Keep it turned on…"_

Harry nodded. Ginny had always been the light amongst them, comforting everyone in their darkest moment.

With a modest look on his face, Dumbledore got up from his seat and displayed extraordinary operatic skills as he backed Draco up.

"_So excuse me for forgetting  
But these things I do  
You see I've forgotten  
If they're green or they're blue  
Anyway the thing is…" _Draco affected an air of confused forgetfulness about himself, _"what I really mean…" _He hooked an arm under Ginny's knees deftly, hoisting her up into his arms, and spinning around wildly._ "Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen!"_

Combined with breathtaking orchestral music, Dumbledore's operatic solo filled the Hall to the brim.

"_And you can tell everybody," _rose Draco's voice again,

"_This is your song!  
It may be quite simple,  
But now that it's done…  
I hope you don't mind,  
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words..." _he set Ginny on the floor again, wrapping his arms around her and looking deep into her eyes. _"…How wonderful life is now you're in the world."_

Smiling deviously, the Slytherin reached into his pocket.

"_I hope you don't mind," _he sang with finality,_ "I-I hope you don't mind that I put down in words…" _

In the sudden silence, Draco got down on one knee, and held up a small box. Ginny gasped, and Draco finished softly, _"How wonderful life is now you're in the world…"_

Under the stunned gazes of every single person in the Great Hall, Ginny nodded and Draco slid a ring onto her finger.

Their embrace and deep kiss resulted in nothing short of a standing ovation.

Grinning like an idiot, Harry didn't even notice the tears on his own face.

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An hour later, the Great Hall looked and sounded quite festive.

"All right!" exclaimed Dumbledore after Neville performed a tale of horrifying Potions hardships. "Now it is time for one of our random Professor picks! Minerva, if you would be so kind?"

The stern Professor nodded, and a bright light raced over the heads of the occupants of the High table, choosing its victim.

When the light finally froze, a dead silence filled the Hall, and the unmistakable sound of Snape's voice rang through it – "oh, bugger."

"Severus!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "Ahh, what a pleasure. Go on, go on! The song will be chosen for you by your heart, I'm afraid."

Snape felt his heart drop. Dumbledore had to be kidding.

"Yes, yes," the headmaster assured him. "Our insta-song charm shall reach into your heart, and… find your deepest… feeling."

Someone would pay later, decided Snape. Very painfully. For the moment, however, his song had started. He groaned as a column of lyrics appeared in his mind's eye. Yes, someone would pay.

He sighed and got up, walking to the center of the Great Hall, and toward his gravest humiliation to date.

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Harry was frozen in place as the love of his life opened his mouth and began to sing.

"_Empty spaces fill me up with holes.  
Distant faces with no place left to go.  
Without you within me I can find no rest.  
Where I'm going is anybody's guess…"_

He thought he heard his jaw hit the floor with a loud clank.

Meanwhile, Snape bowed his head and continued. His voice was mesmerizing, rolling over his audience in great waves of velvet.

"_I've tried to go on like I never knew you;  
I'm awake but my world is half asleep.  
I pray for this heart to be unbroken,  
But without you all I'm going to be is… incomplete…"_

The music started in earnest, and Harry's mind was invaded with memories. Memories of lessons the gruff professor taught. Memories of practice duels they had had.

"_Voices tell me I should carry on,  
But I am swimming in an ocean all alone." _

Memories of quiet companionship slowly acquired… of nightmares they shared with each other… of the anger in Snape's eyes when Harry told him about the cupboard under the stairs.

Memories of the sweet ache that spread through Harry anytime Snape was near. The sweet longing… he thought the older man had felt it too.

He was wrong.

Snape's head snapped up and his gaze held Harry's in a fiery inferno. _"Baby, my baby,"_ he sang,

"_It's written on your face  
You still wonder if you made a big mistake…"_

Harry remembered so clearly the relief that flooded through him when Severus finally opened his eyes after being in a coma for nearly a month. He remembered flinging himself at his Professor, and pressing his lips to his in a desperate… pleading… needing kiss.

Yes, he wondered if it was a mistake. He wondered, because exactly a second later, Snape's bottomless eyes had gone expressionless, his voice completely cold. Their friendship was over. Companionship? It was probably never there.

But now…

Real emotion, REAL PAIN was written plainly in Snape's face as he continued,

"_I've tried to go on like I never knew you.  
I'm awake but my world is half asleep.  
I pray for this heart to be unbroken,  
But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete…"_

Severus' tear-streaked – yes, tear-streaked! face turned up to the heavens.

"_I don't mean to drag it on,"_ he pleaded, _"but I can't seem to let you go  
I don't wanna make you face this world alone_

He fell to his knees heavily, eyes downcast, hands clenched into fists and lifted up to the stormy sky. _"Don't wanna let you go…"_

"_I've tried to go on like I never knew you.  
I'm awake but my world is half asleep.  
I pray for this heart to be unbroken,  
But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete…"_

For a long moment, those deep onyx eyes came up to meet Harry's. A tense silence hung between them, as Snape tried to put everything he felt into one gaze.

"_Incomplete..." _whispered Harry then.

Then Severus bowed his head, and all was silent.

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Before Snape could bolt out of the Great Hall, Harry shot up from his seat. He saw Dumbledore raise his eyebrow questioningly.

A sad melody trickled into the deafening silence, and Harry whispered, "In memory of the war."

Eyes downcast, he walked to the High Table, turning around and facing everyone in the room. He was a strange sight. He leaned heavily onto one leg, and his left eye looked lifeless. The scar running down his face and disappearing into his turtleneck was frightening.

From the entrance to the Great Hall, Severus eyed him warily.

"_I touch the fire and it freezes me,"_ Harry began, his eyes already watering.  
"_I look into it and it's black…  
Why can't I feel? My skin should crack and peel;  
I want the fire back."_

It was the end of his sixth year when the fateful failure of a kiss had occurred. At that moment, Harry Potter stopped feeling. He became nothing but a machine in the war against Voldemort. He cared nothing for his life.

A single tear made way down his face. _"Now through the smoke he calls to me," _he sang, shuddering, _"To make my way across the flames."_

He remembered Voldemort's high-pitched cackle. He remembered seeing war and devastation all around him, and making way past smoking piles of bodies, toward his final battle.

"_To save the day, or maybe melt away..." _he shrugged.  
"_I guess it's all the same."_

His head lifted and his gaze traveled over the shocked faces of his classmates.

"_So I will walk through the fire,  
Cause where else can I turn?"_

His eyes met Snape's and dove deep into the onyx pools.

"_I will walk through the fire  
And let it--"_

"_The torch I bear is scorching me,"_ started Severus suddenly. Every head swiveled to stare at his imposing figure, standing defiantly by the great doors. Feeling the weight of a thousand gazes, the Potions master pivoted on his heel and finally gave in to the urge to run.

"_Potter's laughing, I've no doubt,"_ he growled out as he made his way to the dungeons. He cursed. Even now, even away from insta-songs, he was still singing.

"_I hope he fries!" _he yelled._ "I'm free if that git dies!"_

"_And yet you helped him out,"_ winked a nearby painting at him.

Severus slumped dejectedly.

"_Cause he was drawn to the fire," _he whispered.  
"_Some people never learn.  
So he has walked through the fire  
And let it--"_

Back in the Great Hall, Dumbledore got up from his seat, remembering all too clearly how he felt during the war,  
"_Will this do a thing to change him?  
Am I leading him to danger?  
Is our Savior too far gone to care?"_

"_What if Harry can't defeat him?"_ put in Ron.

"_Beady-eyes is right, we're needed!"_ piped up Draco and then flinched under Ginny's glare. _"…or we could just sit around and glare."_

"_We'll see it through, it's what we're always here to do," _a chorus of teachers and students alike rose up in harmony. _"So we will walk through the fire--"_

The lights dimmed suddenly, and a single ray fell onto Harry's face.

"_So one by one they turned from me,"_ he whispered.  
"_I guess my friends can't face the cold."_

In the months before the final battle, Harry was alone. Utterly alone. Everyone else had drawn back, frightened by his numb…cold…unfeeling behavior.

Out of the darkness, Ginny's beautiful voice sounded, _"What can't we face… if we're together…"_

The music froze.

"_But why I froze,"_ declaimed Harry softly,  
"_Not one among them knows…" _

Everything was completely silent.

Then, with a strange glint in his eyes, Harry Potter limped out of the Hall, and down to the dungeons to claim what was his.

--------------------------------------------

By the time Harry reached the Potions master's chambers, he was in considerable pain. His leg was still very weak, and bursts of pain traveled through it whenever he put too much weight on it.

He sighed resolutely and knocked on the forbidding-looking door.

It swung open. "Potter." Severus was doing his best to glare at his student.

"Professor Snape," acknowledged Harry with a smile.

For a heartbeat nothing happened.

Then the door swung shut. At the last possible moment, Harry jammed his foot into the rapidly diminishing doorway, preventing it from closing all the way.

A second later he realized that in the process he managed to put all his body's weight onto his bad leg.

A second after that, with a pained growl, Harry crumbled.

Strong hands held him up and dragged him inside the doorway. "Foolish Gryffindor," he heard as he was thrown none too gently onto a worn-looking couch.

He gave a weak smile, and then gasped as rough hands traveled up and down the length of his pulsing with pain limb.

"You're fine," asserted Snape a moment later, jerking his hands away.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry whispered.

"Mr. Potter, I am your professor no longer, if you recall." Snape took a large swig out of a bottle that contained something unmistakably alcoholic and slumped tiredly in an armchair. He looked defeated.

"What shall I call you then?" asked Harry. He tried to get up from the couch – and failed, opting instead to sprawl out on it in the most daring way possible.

Snape's gaze traveled over his body in a way that said both "I want you" and "Get the hell out." "My given name is fine," he managed.

"Okay," smiled the green-eyed boy, pulling off his glasses and sighing. "But then you must call me Harry."

Snape's eyes flared as the met the boy's. Harry's blind eye had lost some of its color, but altogether the emerald orbs were still a striking sight, especially without those crummy glasses. "All right then," he nodded. "Harry."

Harry shivered at the sound. "Okay then," he smiled. "Severus."

It didn't sound right. "Severus," he tried again, letting his voice go lower and huskier.

The older man shuddered at the sound, hugging himself as if to shelter himself from Harry.

Driven by inspiration, Harry sat up. "Severus," he whispered, eyes intent on his former professor. _"Sev'rus…"_

"Enough!" Snape shot up from his seat. Anger and heat were blazing in the bottomless depth of his eyes. "What are you doing here, Har--Potter? Why must you continue to torment me when it seemed – it seemed! – that I am finally done with you?"

Harry shrugged. Nothing but honesty shone in his face as he got up as well, favoring his throbbing leg. "I wanted to see you," he said softly, "to tell you something."

"If you think that song was about you…" started Severus, folding his arms across his chest.

"I don't," Harry cut him off. "It doesn't matter. I'm not asking for your affection, Severus. I just want to show you mine."

A pained expression went through the boy's eyes and was gone. Suddenly tearful, he whispered, "I'm leaving Hogwarts. You'll never have to see me or deal with me again. Allow me one moment of honesty."

Taken aback and pained by the boy's frankness, Severus could only nod.

A hint of music drifted into the air and grew stronger while Harry limped closer to the man he loved, not daring to come too close, yet longing to be closer than he dared. They were almost touching, and the need was killing him.

Looking up toward the older man's face, Harry began to sing. _"Never knew I could feel like this,"_ he whispered softly. "_It's like I've never seen the sky before."_

He swayed closer to the sullen man, their lips almost touching, breaths mingling as Harry sang, _"Want to vanish inside your kiss…"_

Poignant piano notes weaved their magic into the air around them and the boy fell silent, staring deep into the older man's eyes.

It was at this moment, when everything hung still around them, that Severus' defenses crumbled, and he felt… bare. He could no longer feign indifference in front of this peculiar…foolish… boy.

Harry gasped as he saw the older man's façade twitch and fail. Hesitant, he took the Potion master's hand and pressed it to his wildly beating heart. _"Seasons may change, winter to spring,"_ he whispered. He stood on his tiptoes, and his lips brushed lightly over Severus' while he murmured, _"but I love you…… until the end… of… time." _

A pained frown spread across Snape's face, and Harry smoothed it away, brushing his fingertips over the cool skin of the other.

"_Come what may," _he whispered.  
"_Come what may," _he sang,  
"_I will love you until my dying day…"_

The music faded away, and Harry stepped back. He felt something inside him break when Snape let him.

Wiping the tears that Harry only now just realized were on his face, Harry nodded. "Goodbye, Professor."

Silently cursing his leg, he limped toward the door, wishing he could run.

"Wait."

The single word set Harry's heart on fire with hope.

Slowly, he turned around.

Snape was staring into the flames of his fireplace. His ink-stained fingers reached out toward the flames. _"I touch the fire and it freezes me,"_ he whispered softly.

Stunned, Harry limped closer to him… closer…

"_I look into it and it's black,"_ sang Severus, turning tearful eyes toward the boy. Fearfully, tentatively, he reached out… watching his own hands intently as they took hold of Harry's shoulders and tugged him closer.

Harry gasped…

Snape's hands were shaking as they framed the boy's angelic face. He leaned down to nip lightly at Harry's bottom lip. "Foolish Gryffindor," he managed. "Always rushing head-first into everything."

Harry smiled, nuzzling against Severus' palms. "I'll do anything for love," he whispered.

Snape nodded. A hint of a smile appeared on the corners of his lips. "Perhaps you… needn't leave Hogwarts quite so soon," he suggested innocuously.

"I needn't?" Harry quirked an eyebrow.

Severus sighed. With infinite tenderness, he kissed along the boy's scar, relishing the shiver that went through both of them. When he reached Harry's lips, he paused. "I don't want you to leave," he murmured against them. "Ever. Gods, _ever_."

Harry was tingling; he felt alive again, and it was wonderful. He slipped his arms around the taller man's neck. "_This can't be real,"_ he whispered in awe. _"But you can make me feel..."_

**FIN**


End file.
